The Art of Losing(84)

Audrey bit her lip until my hand was on the doorknob.

“I was jealous,” she whispered finally. “You spend all your time with Mike, and you don’t even seem to like him. And then tonight, he let me be his beer pong partner. And after we lost, I spilled beer on myself. He took me upstairs to clean up and borrow a shirt from Cassidy and . . . we kissed.”

“Did you sleep with him?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“No! We just kissed . . . and stuff. I didn’t plan it; it just happened.”

“But you let it,” I said.

I left her crying in the bathroom. She could find her own ride home. She could walk for all I cared.





Chapter Twenty



When I visited Audrey the next day, she was curled up in bed with her back to the door. She didn’t roll over when I walked in, and she barely looked at me when I sat down next to her.

“Hey, kid,” I said.

She pushed her knees away from her chest and rolled onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. “Hey,” she murmured.

“Want to watch a movie?” I asked. “Dad really wants us to see The African Queen.”

She groaned. “I’ve been saying no to seeing that movie for years. Why now?”

“Your wide-eyed, na?ve optimism seems to be rubbing off on me,” I said. “I figure we can give Dad the benefit of the doubt.”

She tilted her head, another question on her lips, so I told her what had happened the day before with Raf. “So I might be buying into the Audrey Langston school of thought that love is worth taking chances for,” I said as I sat down next to her. “Scoot over.” I cuddled in on her hospital bed as she slid over slowly and rested her head on my shoulder.

“I’m happy for you,” she said. But her tone was serious, much more so than I’d expected.

“You don’t sound happy,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

She wouldn’t look at me, but I could tell she was working on an answer, so I didn’t ask again.

“I’ve been remembering some things lately,” she said finally.

My heart was suddenly beating loudly in my ears. I could feel the blood rushing to my face. I hoped my expression was neutral, just in case she glanced at me.

“Did something happen between me and Mike?” she asked. “Because . . .” Her chin trembled. “I just keep having this memory of fighting with Neema and then all of a sudden I’m with Mike. And we’re . . . kissing.” Her entire face turned red, all the way to the tips of her ears, but she rolled over to face me when she asked, “Is it real?”

“Yes,” I said, once I’d swallowed the lump in my throat. Audrey’s eyes widened. “It was at the party the night of the accident. You kissed him after Neema told you she was in love with you.”

Audrey stared at me, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh God,” she whispered. She looked down at her hands, and the tears spilled over, splashing onto the blanket. “I kept thinking it had to be a nightmare. I never . . . How could I have done that? How could I have hurt both of you like that? How are you both still here, anywhere near me, after I did that to you?”

Her breathing was shallow and fast, and her hands squeezed into fists. I wrapped my hands around the fist closest to me.

“I was so angry,” I said. “At first. But seeing you here, in the hospital, struggling to breathe, to walk, to live? Eventually, I was able to put things into perspective.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. She looked so hurt that a spark of anger coursed through me. She shouldn’t get to be hurt when I was the one who had been betrayed. But I couldn’t sustain the anger. Having almost lost her, and having had enough distance to see that I could survive the aftermath of it, I just wanted to forgive her and move on.

“I hated you for a while, but when you didn’t remember, I felt like you were given a do-over. You could go back to being the Audrey who had never betrayed me. Because you aren’t the same person you were when you came with me to that party. And neither am I.”

Audrey’s forehead creased, and she swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her eyes pleading. “Harley, I’m so, so sorry.”

I gathered her into my arms, pulling her thin body to mine. I could feel her ribs even through the hoodie she was wearing.

“I know you are,” I said. “I’m sorry, too.”

She pulled back enough to look at me. “For what?”

“For all the times I was mean, or ignored you, or made you feel like I didn’t want you around. I wasn’t always the most supportive sister.”

“You were, too,” she said, hugging me again. “You slept next to me for years, and you could have smothered me with a pillow a thousand times, but you never did.”

I laughed, pushing her playfully. “You’re right,” I said. “I really am a saint.”

Audrey laughed, too, wiping away the remaining tears on her cheeks. “Thanks,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, kid,” I said. Then I gasped and sat up. “Oh my God, I almost forgot to tell you. I saw Jason today.”

Audrey’s smile grew shy. “Jason Raymond?”

I nodded. “He asked about you.”